Sunday, May 30, 2021

How a beagle used in a test lab opened my heart

Melanie D.G. Kaplan, Special To The Washington Post
Sat, May 29, 2021,

ALEXANDER HAMILTON AND HIS MOM

My partner, James, recently surprised me with an illustration from a local artist titled "Hammy the Superdog." The picture shows my beagle, Hamilton, standing on his hind legs, arms akimbo, sporting little red shorts, what looks like a blue rash guard, matching blue boots and a red cape. At any moment, it seems, he could take off and soar over a cartoon city.

In real life, Alexander Hamilton is an 11-year-old beagle who spent his first four years in a testing laboratory. Not to ruin your day, but you should know that university and private labs still experiment on tens of thousands of dogs. Many of them are beagles, and many of the beagles arrive as puppies. The majority come from breeders who sell directly to the testing facilities, according to the Humane Society of the United States. Imagine taking the softest, most innocent and compliant being and putting him in a caged prison for years.



Hammy and I met in 2013. Years after I lost my beagle, Darwin, I had signed up with a nonprofit organization to foster a former laboratory dog; it was months later when I got the call asking if I was available the following week.

On a hot day in July, I gathered with six other volunteers in a suburban Maryland backyard and waited for seven beagles. They arrived in a van, directly from a laboratory in Virginia. We weren't told the name of the lab or the kinds of testing they underwent. But we were told that this was their first time walking on grass and sniffing in sunshine.

At home, Hammy was petrified, rarely leaving his bed and scared of everything. He had the naivete of a toddler and the frights of a prisoner of war.

After years in a cage, his legs were so undeveloped that I had to teach him to climb stairs and hop on a couch. He couldn't bark because, I was told by the nonprofit group, his vocal cords had been cut - apparently a common practice in some labs to prevent howling. Even his sense of smell (a beagle's superpower) was weak, so I hid treats, encouraging him to exercise his sniffer muscles. On one of our first car outings, he ducked when we drove beneath an underpass and again when I turned on the windshield wipers.

The six beagles released from the lab with Hammy (all named after Founding Fathers) were similarly scarred and scared. Some wouldn't walk through doorways for years; others tried escaping.

Through the years, Hammy has largely gotten used to life in the free world - proving wrong those in the testing industry who say dogs used in experiments can't later thrive as pets (the vast majority of laboratory animals are euthanized, according to the Humane Society). He stops at the neighborhood firehouse for treats and delights me with flashes of playfulness. His vocal cords grew back, and he now howls, joyfully, before every meal. He can smell an open jar of peanut butter through a brick wall.

Before the pandemic, Hammy had a stint as a therapy dog. We started at a hospital, where he sat on patients' beds, trembling, making eye contact only with half-eaten trays of food. Next we volunteered at a women's shelter and a juvenile detention center, facilities that were quieter but yielded their own startling sounds. Then we visited classrooms, where I talked about animal testing as my gentle companion went desk to desk, inhaling a carrot slice from each student. Inquisitive and earnest, the students vowed to write their representatives. They lifted Hammy's left ear to see the crude, blue tattooed number that identified him at the laboratory - before he had a name. They tried to pet away his shakes.

Hammy remains fearful and sensitive - as flappable as they come. He lifts off the ground like a rocket when a leaf drops in his path, cowers walking under scaffolding and flinches when pigeons take flight. He'd rather leap off a tall building than listen to a bicycle bell. When he is out of earshot, I call him Anxiety Dog. And every day, I praise him for enduring even the most ordinary of events.

Once, a couple of his toes became stuck like he was crossing them for good luck. He sat on the couch and raised his paw, showing me his predicament. "Fix this?" he seemed to be saying. I uncrossed his toes and whispered in his ear, "You are so brave." I chuckled, thinking about how long he would survive in the wild.

And yet, he's a survivor. At times, I see his blank stare and wish I knew more about his life as a young dog. At best, a technician may have embraced him. I try not to think about the worst.

One day a couple of years ago, Hammy scurried from the room at the chime of an incoming text. What traumatic memory did that trigger? This new reaction to the sound came on quickly.

At first, I tried to console him with edible love, but the little oyster cracker-sized treats fell from his quivering lips. So I began shielding him from digital chimes; around friends, I'd ask them, like a librarian, to please silence their phones.

After months of trying to comfort him with treats, a notable victory: He began coming to me for a reward when he heard the offending sound. But the episodes remained upsetting and stressful - for both of us. To this day, hearing a text sound triggers something in me.

Then Hammy became sensitive to other jangles, clinks, tings and pings - the padlocked chain being pulled off my neighbor's gate, two steel necklaces faintly tapping each other on my neck, a typewriter bell on a podcast. Last year, James and I streamed shows that surprised us all with elevator dings and front desk bell rings; Hammy clearly viewed them as horror movies.

The shaking set off by these sounds can be intense.

When it happens, I smother Hammy with kisses and wrap my body around his, trying to simulate the hug machine, a contraption invented by autism and animal behavior expert Temple Grandin to relieve stress. Imagine a yogi in child's pose over a furry jackhammer.

Curling up with my brave little guy on his bed, I picture him donning that artist-drawn superdog outfit. Yet I wonder whether Hammy sees me as the one in the cape, swooping in when evil sounds strike.

I think, "How lucky I am to be his therapy human." Deeply loving a being who faces this world with fear and hesitation has unleashed superpowers in me. I've discovered nearly unlimited reserves of patience and tenderness for this 28-pound, tricolored creature with a tail tipped in white and ears like velvet. Some days, I can sit for long stretches and watch him sleep, which calms me.

I'm more aware of the needs of others - including humans - and my heart is more open. My edges have softened.

After I soothe his tremors, Hammy rolls onto his back and looks at me intently. His big brown eyes speak, and I translate: "Rub my belly?" His legs stick up in the air and flail awkwardly with the final round of trembles. I caress his pink stomach and stare into his eyes, speaking back. For the moment, all is right in the world.

In the cartoon sky, we soar without fear, our magnificent capes flapping gloriously in the wind. Silently, of course.
Nunavut dog reunites with family after epic journey across ice and tundra

Paul Tukker CBC

© Submitted by Donna Adams Donna Adams reunites with her dog, Pepper, in Whale Cove, Nunavut. Days earlier, Pepper had gone missing back home in Rankin Inlet, about 70 kilometres away.

Donna Adams wouldn't have guessed that her dog Pepper had it in her.

But the 10-year-old German shepherd — typically found lolling about outside Adams's home in Rankin Inlet, Nunavut — floored everybody by making a 70-kilometre journey along the remote Hudson Bay coast on her own, to track down her family in a distant community she'd never been to.

"We were elated. Like, I just couldn't believe it," Adams said, recalling the dog's surprise arrival in Whale Cove.

"She just likes to laze around. We used to get a lot of charges from the bylaw for having an untied dog, but even I think they gave up too, because she doesn't go anywhere!"

Pepper's big adventure earlier this month began on a sad note — a death in Adams's family, with a funeral to be held in Whale Cove, a smaller community down the Hudson Bay coast. Adams's family planned to fly there from Rankin, but a cancelled flight prompted them to travel by snowmobile instead.

They were getting ready to set out when Pepper started to act up.

"She was really, really trying to follow us. She even hopped on the sled. We told her to get off and go inside, go home," Adams recalled.

"I think she felt the grief or the trauma that we were feeling. She just knew something was up, and she didn't want to leave us."

Eventually, Pepper was coaxed back home. One of Adams's daughters was still there, at least until the next day when she would catch a rescheduled flight to meet her family in Whale Cove.

Adams figures it was some time after her daughter left that that Pepper also skipped town. Her son had stayed behind in Rankin but was at work that day, and Adams's husband came back later that night to find Pepper gone.

"They looked everywhere. And she doesn't move around anymore. She doesn't leave," Adams said.

The family was distraught, and puzzled, but they were also dealing with a family tragedy and so finding Pepper was not their top priority.

"We just let it go. We kind of just accepted that, well, she's gone," Adams said.
'The land freaks her out'

It wasn't like Pepper to just take off, and not just because she's usually a lazy homebody. According to Adams, the dog just doesn't like being out of town.

"The land freaks her out, like it's too quiet," Adams said. "There's nothing around, she's too big and slow to catch siksiks [ground squirrels] ... no people and nothing around — that's what bothers her."
© CBC Whale Cove is a small community on the Hudson Bay coast. Pepper would have travelled about 70 kilometres across the remote landscape from Rankin Inlet to find the community.

Adams and a couple of her kids stayed on in Whale Cove. They had been there for a few days when someone in town showed them a picture of a dog that had seemingly wandered into the remote village.

It was Pepper. Somehow, the dog had swallowed her fears and travelled alone for days across the vast, silent landscape of ice and tundra to find her people.

Whale Cove is pretty small, so it took Adams and her family about 10 minutes to track Pepper down after the dog was first spotted.

"She looked a lot, like 10 years younger — because she lost a lot of weight!" Adams said, laughing.

"I burst into tears the moment I saw her. I don't think I've ever experienced that. Just burst in tears of joy."

Adams said Pepper's incredible journey was soon the talk of the town — in Whale Cove, and back in Rankin Inlet.

"Everybody was so happy to hear of the story. I mean, especially on her own, completely on her own! And she's never been taken to Whale Cove with us before," Adams said.

"We were all so excited, and relieved — and very proud of her."


CANADA
Survey show only 20 per cent of workers want to return to office full-time post-COVID

Canadians are in no rush to head back to the office even as COVID-19 cases and deaths continue to decline across the country, a new survey suggests.
© Provided by The Canadian Press

A recent poll by Leger and the Association for Canadian Studies has found that 82 per cent of Canadian respondents who have worked from home during the pandemic have found the experience to be very or somewhat positive, while just 20 per cent want to return to the office every day.

Only 17 per cent described working from home as somewhat or very negative.


Almost 60 per cent of those surveyed said they would prefer to return to the office part-time or occasionally, while 19 per cent said they never want to go back.

The top three reasons for preferring to continue to work from home were convenience, saving money and increased productivity.


Some 35 per cent of those surveyed in Canada agreed with the statement "If my superiors ordered me to go back to the office, I would start to look for another job where I can work from home."

The Leger survey queried 1,647 Canadians and 1,002 Americans between May 21 to 23, and cannot be assigned a margin of error because it was done online.

The data comes as several provinces have started easing pandemic restrictions as new cases and hospitalizations continue to come down from third-wave highs.

Saskatchewan entered the first phase of its reopening plan on Sunday, as it reported the fewest people in hospital with COVID-19 since Nov. 28.

The changes that took effect in the province include easing restrictions on outdoor sports and allowing private gatherings to have up to 10 people, public indoor gatherings to have up to 30 people and public outdoor gatherings, up to 150 people.

Quebec, which reported 315 cases on Sunday, will ease restrictions in eight different regions on Monday.

The regions, which include Quebec City but not Montreal, will move from red to orange on the province's pandemic alert system, allowing gyms and restaurant dining rooms to reopen.

Newfoundland and Labrador, however, went in the other direction as it tightened restrictions in the western region in response to a growing COVID-19 cluster.

Dr. Rosann Seviour, provincial medical officer of health, announced restrictions were being increased in the region because of a number of cases with no identified source of infection.

As a result, Seviour said communities in the Stephenville area and on the Port au Port Peninsula were being moved to Alert Level 4 as of 4 p.m. Sunday, meaning people are advised to stay home as much as possible except to get essentials like groceries and medications.

In a statement, Canada's chief public health officer said that easing restrictions needs to be done gradually, especially given the risk presented by more contagious variants.

"As restrictions start to be lifted based on conditions in your area, it is still important that everyone continue to follow local public health advice and keep up with individual protective practices like physical distancing and wearing a mask regardless of whether you have been vaccinated or not," Dr. Theresa Tam wrote.

Ontario announced Sunday that it would move on Monday to replace Dr. David Williams, its chief medical officer of health.

While the province praised his leadership during the COVID-19 crisis, critics have taken aim at his rambling communication style and his failure to push stiffer restrictions ahead of a surge in COVID-19 cases earlier this year.

Health Minister Christine Elliott issued a statement saying the government would move a motion on Monday to replace Williams with Dr. Kieran Moore, who has drawn praise in his role as medical officer of health for Kingston, Frontenac and Lennox and Addington Public Health.

The proposed change would see Williams retire on June 25, a few months ahead of schedule, with Moore to take over the following day.

This report by The Canadian Press was first published May 30, 2021

Morgan Lowrie, The Canadian Press
‘Lives were ruined’: 40 years after Edmonton’s Pisces bathhouse raid

Fletcher Kent 


If the most important moments of life are burned into our memories, Michael Phair clearly demonstrates the importance of May 30, 1981.
© Supplied to Global News Edmonton police photographed Michael Phair during the May 30, 1981 bathhouse raid.

The LGBTQ activist and former city councillor sits in a downtown park named after him recounting, in great detail, the day he and 55 other gay men were arrested in a bathhouse raid.

"I was there," says Phair, who described the raid as "crazy, scary and frightening all at the same time."

Phair remembers every tiny moment. He describes sitting in a TV room at 'Pisces Spa' with a few other men. He was watching the Spokane news.

"All of a sudden, there was a rush, lights went on. There was a rush of people running down the hallway," he said.

"It took me a minute to realize it was police and they had video cameras and lights. One of them came into the TV room where there were three or four of us watching TV and yelled, 'Don't move. This is a raid. Stay right where you are.'"

Phair says he was shocked and afraid.

"I didn't know if this is a first step to going to prison or whatever."

He remembers being "herded towards the front and photos were taken of each of us with our names."

As this was all happening, Phair remembers wondering why there was so much attention paid to the men at Pisces.

"What was it about us that was so significant?"

The Pisces Spa was a bathhouse used by gay men. On May 30, 1981, 56 men were arrested after nearly 50 officers stormed the spa.

Police had been watching the building for months. Undercover officers infiltrated the club and gathered intelligence for police prior to the raid.

The men were charged with being found in a common bawdy house. The term refers to a place where prostitution or indecent acts occur. There was never any evidence of prostitution taking place in the spa.

All 56 were loaded into vans and taken to the courthouse for 5 a.m. court appearances.

Phair pleaded not guilty. The charge galvanized him. He fought back. He was eventually convicted but an appeal court overturned that conviction.

Read more: Canadian police chiefs issue formal apology for 1968 stance on homosexuality

While Phair says he can still clearly remember every detail of that night, it's critical others do as well.

"I think it's significant to understand what oppression of a particular group can lead to."

Writer Darrin Hagen is also trying to keep these difficult memories alive. He's researching what happened and plans to write a play and a book about it.

"This anniversary is a brilliant opportunity to reflect on what happened 40 years ago and to wonder how we can treat each other better," says Hagen.

Hagen was a 17 year-old gay man in 1981. He was living in Rocky Mountain House and preparing to move to Edmonton.

The Pisces raid rattled him. He's still trying to understand its true impact on Edmonton's LGBTQ community.

"I had no real idea of the impact it had on the community because the community was trying to move past what they had experienced."

Hagen notes Phair was talking about it. Others did not. They could not.

The raid became front-page news and the men who were arrested were demonized during their trials. The Crown prosecutor told court the spa allowed gay men "to rut like animals."

That attention traumatized many of the men who were arrested. In his research, Hagen has no doubt what the attention brought many of them.

"Shame," says Hagen. "The shame of what the city did to them. The shame of what they went through for no reason."

Hagen says the raid was an important moment in Edmonton history that must be remembered.

"Lives were ruined. Reputations were shattered. Jobs were lost. Families were broken up. Edmonton needs to be able to reconcile its past."

"I'm in mourning right now for the lives they could have led, the contributions they could've made to Edmonton society that they never got to make because their dignity was assaulted in such a demeaning and pointless way."

In 2019, Edmonton police chief Dale McFee issued an apology to Edmonton's LGBTQ community for actions that included the 1981 raid.

Read more: ‘Our actions caused pain’: Edmonton police chief apologizes to LGBTQ2 community on behalf of EPS

“To the members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and two-spirit community — both across our public and within our service — on behalf of the Edmonton Police Service, I am sorry and we are sorry,” said McFee in the May 2019 apology.

“Our actions caused pain. They eroded trust. They created fear."

Phair says a lot has changed in the last 40 years. For that, he is grateful. But he vows to keep talking about every detail of those painful moments that are forever etched into his memory.

He feels he has to.

"It reminds one of the authority and power of a police force," says Phair.

"It's important it not disappear. I don't want anyone to have to live though it again. Once for a group is quite enough."

'Shattered lives': A look at Edmonton police raid of Pisces Spa bathhouse four decades later

Dylan Short 

Four decades have passed since dozens of gay men were arrested during a raid at Edmonton’s Pisces Health Spa, charged and outed to the broader community, changing their lives completely
.
© Provided by Edmonton Journal Ron Byers, community leader and storyteller, poses for a photo with a Pride flag at Evolution Wonderlounge at 10220 103 St. in Edmonton on Saturday, May 29, 2021. The nightclub opened on Sept. 13, 2013. Byers and others are marking the 40th anniversary of the Pisces Spa bathhouse raid.

Fifty-six men and six employees were arrested under bawdy house laws when 40 Edmonton police, seven RCMP officers and two attorneys raided the bathhouse on May 30, 1981.

Ron Byers, a member of Edmonton’s LGBTQ community and a queer historian, said he had planned to be at Pisces the night of the raid to celebrate a friend’s birthday. He said the ensuing treatment of those charged by law enforcement, the courts and the media was cruel and has left many still unable to talk about their experiences.

“That raid shattered lives, literally, because it wasn’t just gay people that were there. There were straight people there, there were people who were questioning their sexuality. There were people who, to this day, they still consider themselves straight,” said Byers.

Following the raid, the so-called found-ins were taken to a 5 a.m. court hearing where a judge and prosecutors were waiting for them. The ensuing court cases garnered significant media attention. Many of those charged had their names plastered across TV screens, radio broadcasts and newspapers.

The treatment they received was harsh compared to others found in other types of bawdy houses, said Byers. At that time, the justice system would typically shield the names of men who were found paying for prostitutes.

The men charged for being at Pisces were not given such treatment. Byers believes several attacks on gay men the following fall were a direct result of having their names plastered across the news
.
© Ian Kucerak An original Pisces Spa card owned by Ron Byers is shown on Saturday, May 29, 2021. Byers and others are marking the 40th anniversary of the Pisces Spa bathhouse raid. Ian Kucerak/Postmedia

One of the men charged during the raid was Michael Phair, who went on to plead not guilty. He was convicted, but then appealed, had his record scrubbed and eventually went on to hold public office.

He said the way he and the others were treated in the courts and in the media, being called “animals” and berated by lawyers, led to some of the men leaving the city for good while others lost their jobs.

“The kinds of comments that were made, particularly during the court cases, were particularly damaging to most individuals,” said Phair. “Talking about running like animals, I think was, was horrible and I’ll never forget.”

Despite the trauma and pain that it caused, Phair said the incident also shone a spotlight on the treatment of the LGBTQ community. He said many people at the time felt sending dozens of police officers into a bathhouse and tying up the courts with charges was a waste of money, especially since those charges did not include any prostitution, drugs or weapon offences.

He said it led to push-back against mistreatment. The broader community called for LGBTQ Edmontonians to be treated fairly.

The shutdown was the accumulation of an undercover investigation and led to all 56 people being convicted.

Two years ago, Edmonton police Chief Dale McFee issued a formal apology to Edmonton’s LGBTQ community for the way they were treated, including during the famous raid. Several people who were charged in the raid were in attendance to hear McFee speak.

Police still work to repair relations


Forty years later, Byers said he continues to uncover stories from that day. He said it is important to archive what happened and continue strengthening a better relationship between community members and police.

He said the police have done a good job in recent years trying to build trust through McFee’s apology, creating a liaison position and continuing work through panels and boards.

“The Edmonton police have made some really good steps forward in gaining the trust of the community. Not regaining, but gaining it,” said Byers. “It will help cement a better relationship for the queer community here in Edmonton. Moving forward, there’s still a lot of work to do.”

On Sunday, the Edmonton Police Service issued a statement and released a video to commemorate the 40th anniversary, saying the impact of the raid was profound.

“Many 2SLGBTQ+ community members, including those who were not present during the raid, experienced humiliation, shame and stigmatization from this incident,” read the EPS statement. “While the EPS strives to improve equity and inclusion in its approach to policing, we must also acknowledge the role we have played in unfairly targeting the 2SLGBTQ+ community.”

dshort@postmedia.com

Vigil at Alberta Legislature mourns children who died at residential schools

Thandiwe Konguavi
© Scott Neufeld/CBC People gather at a vigil at the Alberta Legislature on Sunday, May 30, 2021 mourning children who died at residential schools.

Hundreds of people gathered at the Alberta Legislature in Edmonton Sunday evening for a vigil mourning children who died at residential schools.

The event was held on the heels of an announcement Thursday from the Tk'emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation that the bodies of 215 children were found buried at the site of the former Kamloops Indian Residential School, near the city of Kamloops in B.C.

"We have to now look more closely at the other residential schools and the burial sites because there are burial sites at every single one of them," said vigil organizer Anita Cardinal-Stewart at the event organized by the Indigenous Law Students Association. "This has been a difficult and triggering time for survivors and the families of those who didn't survive.

"Today, Albertans of all backgrounds stood in unity and solidarity to remember and to honour those 215 and all the children who perished as a result of attending a residential school. We will never forget and Canada must tell the truth."

Participants at the vigil marked 215 seconds of silence in memory of the children who died at residential schools, and throughout the day, children's shoes were left at the monument to Catholic nuns on the legislature grounds.

A statement from the Tk'emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation said that the missing children, some as young as three years old, were undocumented deaths.
© Scott Neufeld/CBC Children’s shoes were left at the monument to Catholic nuns on the legislature grounds on Sunday, May 30, 2021.

Flags across the country have been lowered or will be lowered in honour of the children — including at the Alberta Legislature Building, and at city hall, where Mayor Don Iveson has said flags will be lowered for 215 hours starting Monday.

Citing Edmonton as home to one of the largest urban Indigenous communities in Canada, and home to the largest number of residential school survivors in the country, Iveson said news of the discovery of the 215 children "hits hard" in the city.

"The evidence of barbaric practices and the impact of official government policies that ripped families apart is overwhelming," Iveson said in a statement released on Twitter Sunday.

"On behalf of the people of Edmonton, our thoughts and sympathies go out to the people of the Tk'emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation, where this tragedy is closest, and to other nations in the region whose children attended that school, and to all Indigenous peoples who have been impacted and retraumatized by this discovery," Iveson said.
'Incredibly traumatic'

Healing from the traumatic experience of the residential school system is "continuous and inter-generational," the Confederacy of Treaty Six First Nations Chiefs said in a statement Sunday.

"The children were denied their last moments away from family who loved and cherished them. The families were denied the right to grieve, and to follow through with customary burial practices," said Grand Chief Vernon Watchmaker.

"When violence as devastating as this is exposed, it is incredibly traumatic for our collective Nations, Nation members, and all who are impacted by the horrific truths of Canada's genocide."

A National Indian Residential School Crisis Line has been set up to provide support for former students and those affected. Emotional and crisis referral services can be accessed by calling the 24-hour national crisis line: 1-866 925-4419.
Canadians in Japan say the Olympics should be cancelled


© Provided by The Canadian Press

Canadian Jordan Dallaire-Gagné just wanted to be part of the largest sporting event in the world. Working or volunteering at the Tokyo Olympics was top of mind when the Montrealer moved to Japan a little over a year ago.

But Dallaire-Gagné said the Games should be cancelled as parts of the world face surging waves of COVID-19.

Dallaire-Gagné and several other Canadians living in Japan said sports are about camaraderie, cheering fans, full stadiums and a festive atmosphere that spills into the streets. Canadians in Japan were looking forward to cheering Team Canada in Tokyo.

The idea of mostly empty stadiums, devoid of foreign spectators, feels wrong, the Canadians said, adding the focus of the governments, not just in Japan but from countries sending their athletes, should simply be to get through COVID-19.

"I mean, it's just the whole idea of participating," Dallaire-Gagné said in an interview from Tokyo. "This is almost a once-in-a-lifetime event. I would have kept my ticket. I would say I was there."

Calls to cancel the Olympics are growing. Anywhere from 60 to 80 per cent of Japanese residents in polls say it is their wish that the Games be cancelled.

The Olympics open on July 23 followed by the Paralympics on Aug. 24.

Dallaire-Gagné said it's hard to look at the part of the city that is supposed to house the athletes because it seems to lack a sense of light and life.

"It's just like basically a part of town that could be used as a zombie apocalypse movie set," he said. "They're just there. It's just so sad."

A 6,000-member Tokyo Medical Practitioners’ Association has also called for the Olympics to be cancelled in a letter sent last week to Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga, Tokyo Governor Yuriko Koike, Olympic Minister Tamayo Marukawa, and Seiko Hashimoto, the head of the organizing committee.

The Olympics and Paralympics will involve 15,000 athletes entering Japan, which has had its borders virtually sealed for more than a year.

Rebekkah Nyack, an undergraduate student at Temple University's Japan campus, said she is worried about the spread of infection if the games go-ahead.

"Tokyo is such a dense city with so many people," said the Canmore, Alta. resident, who is studying international affairs.

"If there's a large outbreak there's a higher chance of me getting (COVID-19) and people in my community getting it."

Between one and two per cent of Japanese residents are fully vaccinated, and it’s unlikely that even the elderly population will be fully vaccinated before the Olympics end on Aug. 8.

Fans from abroad have already been banned, and Olympic organizers are expected to announce next month if local fans can attend in limited numbers — or not at all.

Nyack said that even though the Games are a "fantastic" thing to happen every four years, it is far more important right now to keep people safe.

The idea of largely empty stadiums is disheartening, she said.

"The sense of community the sports bring — it's an important part right?" she asked.

"So, if you don't have that then what's the point?"

Jared Parales said if the Olympics are held, tickets are affordable, social distancing measures are comfortable and all precautions are taken, he may go and watch the Canadian volleyball team.

The Calgarian, who lives in Tokyo, said he's seen some sports events go ahead with cardboard figures filling seats, but added it's not the same as having screaming and cheering fans.

Ideally, he said he wants to see the Games cancelled.

"For Olympics, a lot of people love it," he said.

“And I love sports. I love the Olympics. I want to see it happen, but I want to see it happen right and not right now."

— With files from The Associated Press

This report by The Canadian Press was first published May 21, 2021.

Hina Alam, The Canadian Press

Why the Pentagon budget never goes down
Joe Biden's first 100 days were a Pentagon prize


By MANDY SMITHBERGER
PUBLISHED MAY 29, 2021 
The Pentagon building in Washington, D.C. (AFP via Getty Images)

This piece originally appeared on TomDispatch.

The first 100 days of President Joe Biden's administration have come and gone. While somewhat exaggerated, that milestone is normally considered the honeymoon period for any new president. Buoyed by a recent election triumph and inauguration, he's expected to be at the peak of his power when it comes to advancing the biggest, boldest items on his agenda.

And indeed, as far as, say, infrastructure or pandemic vaccination goals, Biden has delivered in a major way. Blindly funding the Pentagon and its priorities in the stratospheric fashion that's become the essence of Washington has, however, proven another matter entirely. One-hundred days later and it's remarkable how little has changed when it comes to pouring money into this country's vast military infrastructure and the wars, ongoing or imagined, that accompany it.

For the past decade, debate about the Pentagon budget was governed, in part, by the Budget Control Act, which placed at least nominal caps on spending levels for both defense and non-defense agencies. In reality, though, unlike so many other government agencies, the Pentagon was never restrained by such a cap. Congress continued to raise its limits as military budgets only grew and, no less important, defense spending had a release valve that allowed staggering sums of money to flow without serious accounting into an off-budget fund meant especially for its wars and labelled "the overseas contingency operations account." The Congressional Research Service has estimated that such supplemental spending from September 11, 2001, to fiscal year 2019 totaled an astonishing $2 trillion above and beyond the congressionally agreed upon Pentagon budget.




Now, however, the Budget Control Act has expired, leaving this administration with a striking opportunity to reorient the country away from trillion-dollar-plus national security budgets and endless wars, though there's little sign that such a path will be taken.

If there's one thing Americans should have learned in the last year-plus, it's that endless Pentagon spending doesn't actually make us safer. The pandemic, the insurrection at the Capitol, and the persistent threat of white nationalist extremism should have made it all too clear that defending this country against the most significant risks to domestic public health and safety don't fall within the Pentagon's purview. In addition, the Department of Defense is perhaps the country's greatest source of wasteful spending and mismanagement.

Sadly enough, however, it's likely to be business as usual as long as the money continues to flow in the usual fashion. How striking and inexcusable then that, when it comes to the Pentagon, the Biden administration has visibly wasted its pivotal first 100 days in office on yet more of the same. What we already know, for instance, is that, despite a planned withdrawal of American troops from Afghanistan and claims about winding down America's "forever wars," the first proposed Biden Pentagon budget of $715 billion actually represents a modest increase over the staggering sums the Pentagon received in the last year of the Trump administration.

Admittedly, there is at least a little good news about the Pentagon's finances in the Biden era (though it was already included in the last Trump administration Pentagon budget). The overseas contingency operations slush fund is finally being eliminated. While some saw this as a natural consequence of the end of the Budget Control Act, it was definitely a victory over weapons-industry-funded think tanks like the Center for Strategic and International Studies that were trying to persuade lawmakers and the public to "reform" the fund instead.

In addition, the Biden administration's decision to bring the last troops home from Afghanistan could be an important initial step in drawing down this country's endlessly expensive wars. It's estimated that the United States will have spent upwards of $2.5 trillion dollars on the war in Afghanistan alone (including approximately $12.5 billion annually for the next 40 years on the care of its veterans), a conflict in which, according to Brown University's Costs of War Project, more than a quarter of a million people were killed.

But Biden must do more if he wants to fulfill his promise to end the forever wars. That includes encouraging Congress to repeal long outdated war authorizations and committing not to let any future conflicts start without actual congressional declarations of war. Meanwhile, withdrawing troops from Afghanistan and other war fronts should result in significant Pentagon budget reductions, as has happened historically after wars — but don't count on it.



The Pentagon Behemoth of Waste

If you want a bellweather for measuring the Pentagon's influence in America, consider this: even the most disastrous weapons programs regularly get a pass and it's unlikely the Biden era will end that reality.

Right now, any number of wasteful and troubled Pentagon programs, most notoriously Lockheed Martin's F-35 Joint Strike Fighter, are officially being reviewed. The cost of the creation and maintenance of that jet alone has already ensured that it will be the most expensive weapons program in history: an expected $1.7 trillion over its lifetime. Even department officials and members of Congress have — and this is rare indeed — balked at just how expensive and unreliable that fighter aircraft has proven to be. Trump's outgoing acting Secretary of Defense Christopher Miller called the F-35 a "piece of…," tellingly leaving the last word hanging, but later referring to the plane as "a monster." Meanwhile, Representative Adam Smith (D-WA), the chair of the House Armed Services committee, has made it clear that he'd like to stop throwing taxpayer dollars down that particular "rathole."

Once upon a time, Americans were assured that, as the country's future jet fighter, the F-35 would be "more Chevrolet than Porsche"; that is, on the low(and cheap) end of any new mix of future air power. A lot has changed since then. Total program costs have doubled, while the future price of maintaining the planes soared — unlike the planes themselves. Often, in fact, they aren't in good enough shape to fly, raising serious concerns about whether enough F-35s will be available for future combat. The chief of staff of the Air Force now claims that it's not the Chevrolet, but the "Ferrari," of jet fighters and so should, in the future, be used sparingly. The predictable evolution of that plane was described by the legendary late Colonel Everest Riccioni as a modern Pentagon version of "unilateral disarmament."

At the very least, no more F-35s should be purchased until testing is successfully completed, but such common sense has not, in recent memory, been a notable Pentagon trait — not in the world of the "revolving door" of the military-industrial complex. In this sense, the F-35 program has been typical of our times. In 2017, when delays and exploding costs led the Department of Defense to consider reducing the program's size, then-commandant of the Marine Corps General Joe Dunford weighed in on the subject. Largely ignoring F-35 testing data, he promptly declared that the program had indeed reached initial operational capability (which it likely hadn't). Unsurprisingly, soon after his retirement in 2019, he joined the board of Lockheed.

The future of the Pentagon will largely be shaped by the personnel selected to lead it. In too many instances, they've come directly from a defense industry that's profited handsomely from its soaring budget. In the Trump administration, for instance, figures were selected for the position of secretary of defense who had worked for top defense firms. Retired general Jim Mattis had been on the board of General Dynamics (and returned to it shortly after his stint at the Pentagon ended); Patrick Shanahan came from Boeing; and Mark Esper came from Raytheon.

Although Joe Biden issued a strong ethics executive order to be applied to his political appointees across the board, so far his administration doesn't look that different from past ones when it comes to the Pentagon. After all, his secretary of defense, retired General Lloyd Austin III, arrived directly from the board of Raytheon; while Frank Kendall, nominated to be Air Force secretary, comes from the board of Leidos, another top Pentagon contractor, though one that provides services rather than building weaponry. (While often overlooked, service contracts make up nearly half of all the department's contract spending.)

Spreading defense contracts across congressional districts, a practice known in Washington as "political engineering," also needs to end. Lockheed, for instance, claims that the F-35 program has created jobs in 45 states. According to conventional wisdom, it's this reality that makes the Pentagon too big to fail. Though seldom noted, similar money put into non-military funding like infrastructure or clean energy almost invariably proves to be a greater job creator than the military version of the same.

Here, then, is a question that might be worth considering in the early months of the Biden administration: Is there a more striking indictment of this country's approach to military budgeting than continuing to buy a weapon because our political system is too corrupt to change course?




Militarism at Home

In our recent history, Washington has distinctly been a Pentagon-first sort of place. Often forgotten is how such an approach has negatively impacted communities not just in Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia, or Yemen, but also here at home. To take one example, the Pentagon has played a key role in militarizing this country's police forces, only contributing to the destructive cycle that was first widely noticed after police used military-grade weapons against those protesting the killing of an unarmed Black teenager, Michael Brown, in Ferguson, Missouri, in 2014. Continued police violence targeting the Black community finally gained major attention in the wake of the murder of George Floyd and the police response to the Black Lives Matter movement last summer. As colleagues of mine at the Project On Government Oversight have written, the militarization of our police makes the public "both less safe and less free."

The Pentagon has negatively impacted the policing of America through its 1033 program, which in recent years has transferred staggering amounts of excess military equipment, sometimes directly off the battlefields of this country's "forever wars," to police departments across the country. Tools of war now transferred to local police forces include tanks, mine-resistant ambush-protected vehicles, assault rifles, and bayonets, among many other military items. The group Open The Books, dedicated to government transparency, found that since 1993 the program has transferred 581,000 items of military gear worth $1.8 billion to the police. Unsurprisingly, a 2017 studyfound police departments that received such equipment were more likely to kill the very civilians they are supposed to protect and serve.

At the beginning of the Biden administration, it appeared that the 1033 program would be curtailed. In January, Reuters reported that the president was preparing to sign an executive order that very month, which would at least put significant limits on the program. As of yet, more than three months later, the White House has taken no such action, though in March, Representative Hank Johnson (D-GA) did introduce legislation to curtail the program. According to the Security Policy Reform Institute, the National Association of Police Organizations claimed credit for delaying the president's action.

So today, the military continues to make this country's police look ever more like they're occupying some foreign land.




The China Chickenhawks

And if the China hawks who have gained significant power among the Biden foreign-policy team have anything to say about it, funding the Pentagon will continue to be the order of the day.

Not surprisingly, the Biden administration faces increasing pressure over China and the dangers of war, a narrative that seems like a response to a growing public consensus that we can't continue to put the Pentagon's needs first. The military services are already beginning to turn on each other as they fight for their share of the future budget pie. Concerned that the money train may finally be preparing to run off the tracks, there's been a persistent drumbeat of exaggeration about the military threat posed by China.

In that context, the key document Pentagon boosters continue to cite, though it was published in 2018, is a report from the National Defense Strategy Commission. It recommended cutting the entitlement programs that make up this country's social safety net to pay for a 3% to 5% annual increase in Pentagon spending. Most of the panelists on that commission were defense industry consultants, board members of the giant weapons makers, or lobbyists for the same. Needless to say, they had a financial stake in raising concerns that China would overtake the United States militarily in the reasonably near future.

Indeed, it's a fact of life that competition with China is now a challenge, but it's important to maintain a sense of realism about the nature of that threat. As John Isaacs of the Council for a Livable World recently showed, in capacity and strength, the U.S. military dominates China's many times over. "It seems that China has become the new Soviet Union strawman," Isaacs wrote. "But there's one big difference: while the Soviet military and nuclear arsenal were a fair match for the United States', China's simply aren't." The new cold war with China that the Biden administration is already promoting only threatens to weaken this country as resources are diverted away from combating the most serious threats of our time like pandemics, climate change, and white supremacy.

Unfortunately, in February, the Biden administration, having largely bought into this rhetoric, announced the establishment of a new Pentagon China Task Force. The most likely outcome, as my colleague Dan Grazier points out, is that the president and his foreign policy team will provide ample "cover for elected officials to back unpopular policy recommendations that will end up fulfilling the wish list of the defense industry."

As longtime Atlantic correspondent and defense-reform expert James Fallows has noted, America's draft-less twenty-first-century wars have essentially ensured that the U.S. has become a "chickenhawk nation." For those unfamiliar with the term, chickenhawk refers to "those eager to go to war, as long as someone else is going" in their place. The net result is that the American public has, in this century, proven remarkably complacent about how Washington has used force, "blithely assuming we would win." It was bad enough with Afghanistan, Iraq, and the other forever-war countries, but when it comes to China, it's hard to imagine anything but the most negative outcomes from those encouraging military conflict.

Meanwhile, as with so much related to the Pentagon, the consequences at home of the China scare are already apparent. As has been increasingly obvious of late, overheated rhetoric about the dangers of China have led to an increase in hate-crime attacksagainst Asian Americans nationwide. While former President Trump's anti-China rhetoric ("Kung-flu," "China Virus") seems to have contributed significantly to this increase in hate crimes, so has the rise in fear-mongering about the China threat and the bolstering of what's still called "defense" policy that's gone with it.

This country would undoubtedly benefit from more competition with (as well as cooperation with) China that would strengthen the economy and create more prosperity here. On the other hand, a new cold war atmosphere will allow the Pentagon to horde resources that would otherwise go to our greater public health and safety needs.

Unfortunately, 100-plus days later, the Biden administration has already wasted its first opportunity to change course.

MANDY SMITHBERGER

Mandy Smithberger is the director of the Straus Military Reform Project at the Project On Government Oversight (POGO).



Meet the anti-legalization GOP Congresswoman cashing in on marijuana stocks

My 420 Tours https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Inside_a_cannabis_grow.jpg

Brett Bachman andSalon May 30, 2021

Rep. Virginia Foxx, a North Carolina Republican with an influential post on the House Committee on Oversight and Reform, has spent her Congressional career advocating against the legalization of marijuana — while also loading up on hundreds of thousands of dollars in marijuana-industry stocks ahead of crucial votes on key federal decriminalization measures, Salon has learned.

Foxx, 77, has made at least six investments in Altria, one of the world's largest tobacco companies and a leader in the burgeoning U.S. cannabis industry, since September of last year, according to financial disclosure reports.

The purchases, which have not previously been reported, likely make her the largest holder of marijuana-related stocks in Congress, according to a report from Unusual Whales, a market research firm. It's impossible to say for certain, however, because members of Congress are not required to disclose the exact amounts of their investments.

The trades are especially newsworthy for their timing: beginning just a few months before the U.S. House of Representatives passed the the Marijuana Opportunity Reinvestment & Expungement Act (MORE) in December, which would serve to decriminalize cannabis at the federal level — a key goal of advocates who say the drug's current status as a controlled substance represents a key roadblock to full legalization. Foxx voted against the measure.

Her investments raise concerns over the ethical problems members of Congress create when trading individual stocks within an industry their actions have the potential to influence.

"This is so obviously a conflict of interest, I'm just not sure what else I can say, really," Richard Painter, a former White House ethics attorney under President George W. Bush and University of Minnesota law professor, told Salon. "It brings into question her credibility as a lawmaker."

Rep. Foxx's office did not respond to a request for comment.

The MORE Act ultimately wasn't taken up for a vote in the then-Republican-controlled Senate, effectively killing the measure. It was reintroduced in the House Friday by Rep. Jerry Nadler, D-New York, and has a greater chance of success given the Senate's new Democratic majority.

At least four of Foxx's investments in marijuana-industry stock came between the initial MORE Act vote in December and Friday. In all, records show she has purchased somewhere between $79,000 and $210,000 in Altria stock. It remains unclear whether she is currently holding these investments — though no sales have been reported.

Legalization has been a hot-button issue for the North Carolina representative, whose inflammatory public statements on the matter have been staunchly against several initiatives spearheaded by House Democrats.

"Democrats can't get their minds off pot bills, and they think it's more important than: Supporting small businesses, Safely reopening schools, Protecting the livelihoods of Americans," she wrote on Twitter. "No wonder their majority is shrinking. They're so far removed from reality."


"What are Republicans fighting to protect? Jobs," she wrote in another tweet on President Joe Biden's COVID-19 relief bill. "What are Democrats fighting to protect? Pot. What a joke."



Though her marijuana-related investments likely dwarf other members, she is far from the only Congressperson to cash in on the budding sector — at least 20 House members and six Senators have reported either purchases or sales of industry stocks since 2020, records show.

Two other representatives are notable for their significant investments in cannabis over the past year: Rep. John Yarmuth, D-Kentucky, and Rep. Brian Mast, R-Florida.


Rep. Yarmuth, a co-sponsor of the MORE Act with a powerful post as chairman of the House Budget Committee, takes the record for most diversified marijuana industry portfolio in Congress — with November investments in Canopy Growth Corporation, Aurora Cannabis, and Tilray, as well as February pickups in the same three companies, public disclosures show. He has also reported past investments in at least three other industry stocks, according to Unusual Whales: Cronos Group, Altria and Anheuser-Busch, whose primary business is not in marijuana but has made several recent high-profile ventures into the arena. Yarmuth remains one of the staunchest defenders of legalization in Congress.

Rep Mast was one of only five Republicans who voted to approve the MORE Act — but not before purchasing between $15,000 and and $50,000 in Tilray, the Canadian cannabis giant, disclosure reports reveal. Mast is a U.S. Army veteran who lost both his legs during an explosion in Afghanistan. He has generally supported more research into the effects of legalization and said during a town hall in 2016 that he is a "proponent for alternative forms of medicine."

JP Morgan: 'Politics, not economics' is leading Republican governors to cut off unemployment aid

Greg Abbott by Gage Skidmore, CC
Laura Clawson and 
Daily Kos May 27, 2021

New unemployment claims fell to a pandemic low for the fourth week in a row, with a still-high but rapidly dropping 406,000 people filing for unemployment. But unemployment remains high, and 4.1 million people are on the brink of losing federal unemployment benefits that should have continued into September, thanks to Republican governors making the predictable political decision to scapegoat workers for the economy not recovering at jet-propelled speed. If you don't believe worker advocates when they tell you the Republican governors cutting off federal unemployment benefits early are doing it because of politics, would you believe it from an icon of unfettered capitalism?

"It therefore looks like politics, not economics, is driving decisions regarding the early ends to these programs," according to a document from JPMorgan. "The 23 states announcing early ends all have Republican governors, and while some of these states have tight labor markets and strong earnings growth, many of them do not." (Note: It's now 24 states.)

Pointing out that the nation as a whole is still 8.2 million jobs short of where it was in February 2020, with 10 million people looking for work and not finding it, the Economic Policy Institute's David Cooper breaks down the state data. The national unemployment rate is 6.1%, and four states—Alaska, Arizona, Texas, and Mississippi—are cutting off the $300 a week in federal unemployment aid despite having higher unemployment rates. Another four states—West Virginia, Wyoming, South Carolina, and Tennessee—have unemployment rates at 5% or above.

But that's not all: Seven of those eight states—and 20 of the 24 total states rejecting federal unemployment benefits—have also seen labor force participation decline. That means people have given up looking for work, whether because they've retired early, or because child care obligations keep them out of the paid workforce, or because the jobs just aren't there. Declining labor force participation is a red flag. Between unemployment and reduced labor force participation, "Employment is down by an average of 3.5% since February 2020 in these states. Factoring in the jobs that these states would have needed to keep up with working-age population growth, employment is 4.8% lower, on average, than where we might expect it to be had there been no recession," Cooper writes.

And that's the average across 24 states. A few of them are strikingly worse: "Texas's unemployment rate is still three percentage points above its pre-pandemic unemployment rate. The state has nearly one million people that are officially unemployed—people actively looking for jobs, but unable to find work. Florida's unemployment rate is 1.5 percentage points above its pre-pandemic rate, with nearly half a million people officially unemployed. Since February 2020, 150,000 people have left the labor force in Texas and nearly 220,000 have exited in Florida."

The economy is on its way back, and thanks to vaccination, the U.S. is unlikely to have another major COVID-19 spike (barring a variant that escapes the vaccines). But it's not there yet, and taking money from people who can't find work doesn't just hurt those people, it also hurts the economy by reducing their spending. Logic doesn't work on Republican governors, though. Neither does basic morality. So 4.1 million people are about to lose out on tens of billions of dollars in needed aid, with millions of them in states where the numbers clearly show that the jobs just aren't there.
Why we need to democratize wealth

Photo by Nate Johnston on Unsplash
man in black by a white sports car

Richard D. Wolff and Independent Media Institute May 27, 2021

Throughout its history—wherever it arrived and settled in as the dominant economic system—capitalism provoked struggles over the redistribution of wealth. In other words, this system always distributes wealth in a particular way and likewise produces dissatisfaction with that particular distribution. Those dissatisfied then struggle, more or less, consciously or not, peacefully or violently to redistribute wealth. The struggles are socially divisive and sometimes rise to civil war levels.

The French Revolution marked the end of French feudalism and its transition to capitalism. The revolutionaries' slogans promised the transition would bring with it "liberté, égalité, fraternité" (liberty, equality and fraternity). In other words, equality was to be a key accompaniment to or product of capitalism's establishment, of finally replacing feudalism's lord-serf organization of production with capitalism's very different employer-employee system. Transition to capitalism would erase the gross inequalities of French feudalism. The American Revolution likewise broke not only from its British colonial master but also from the feudal monarchy of George III. "All men are created equal" was a central theme of its profound commitment to equality together with capitalism.

In France, the United States and beyond, capitalism justified itself by reference to its achievement or at least its targeting of equality in general. This equality included the distribution of wealth and income, at least in theory and rhetoric. Yet from the beginning, all capitalisms wrestled with contradictions between lip service to equality and inequality in their actual practices. Adam Smith worried about the "accumulation of stock" (wealth or "capital") in some hands but not in others. Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton had different visions of the future of an independent United States in terms of whether it would or would not secure wealth equality later dubbed "Jeffersonian democracy." There was and always remained in the United States an awkward dissonance between theoretical and rhetorical commitments to equality and the realities of slavery and then systemic racist inequalities. The inequalities of gender likewise contradicted commitments to equality. It took centuries of capitalism to achieve even the merely formal political equality of universal suffrage.

Thus, there should be no surprise that U.S. capitalism—like most other capitalisms—provokes a widely troubling contradiction between the actual wealth inequality it produces and tendentially deepens (as Thomas Piketty has definitively shown) and its repeatedly professed commitment to equality. Efforts to redistribute wealth—to thereby move from less to more equal distributions—follow. Yet, they also disturbingly divide societies where the capitalist economic system prevails.

Wealth redistributions take from those who have and give to those who have not. Those whose wealth is redistributed resent or resist this taking, while those who receive during the redistributions of wealth develop rationales to justify that receipt. Each side of such redistributions often demonizes the other. Politics typically becomes the arena where demonizations and conflicts over redistribution occur. Those at risk of being deprived due to redistributions aim either to oppose redistribution or else to escape it. If the opposition is impossible or difficult, escape is the chosen strategy. Thus, if profits of capitalists are to be taxed to redistribute wealth to the poor, big businesses may escape by moving politically to shift the burden of taxation onto small or medium businesses. Alternatively, all businesses may unite to shift the burden of such redistributive taxation onto higher-paid employees' wages and salaries, and away from business profits

Recipients of redistributions face parallel political problems of whom to target for contributing to wealth redistribution. Will recipients support a tax on all profits or rather a tax just on big business with maybe some redistribution flowing from big to medium and small business? Or might low-wage recipients target high-wage workers for redistributive taxation?

All kinds of other redistributions between regions, races and genders display comparable strategic political choices.

Conflicts over redistributions are thus intrinsic to capitalism and always have been. They reflect but also deepen social divisions. They can and often have become violent and socially disruptive. They may trigger demands for system change. They may function as catalysts for revolutions. Because pre-capitalist economic systems like slavery and feudalism had fewer theoretical and rhetorical commitments to equality in general, they had fewer redistribution struggles. Those finally emerged when inequalities became relatively more extreme than the levels of inequality that more frequently provoked redistribution struggles in capitalism.

No "solution" to divisive struggles over wealth redistribution in capitalism was ever found. Capitalisms keep reproducing both theoretical and rhetorical appeals to equality as self-celebrations alongside actualities of deep and deepening wealth inequalities. Criticisms of capitalism on grounds of wealth inequality dog the system everywhere. Divisive social conflicts over capitalism's unequal wealth distributions persist. Endless efforts to find and implement a successful redistributive system or mechanism continue. The latest comprises various proposals for universal basic incomes.

To avoid divisive social conflict over redistribution, the solution is not to distribute unequally in the first place. That can remove the cause and impetus for redistributive struggles and thus the need for endless and so far fruitless efforts to find the "right" redistribution formula or mechanism. The way forward is to democratize the decision about distributing wealth as it emerges from production. This can be accomplished by democratizing the enterprise, converting workplaces from their current capitalist organization (i.e., hierarchical divisions into employers—public or private—and employees) into worker cooperatives. In the latter, each worker has one vote, and all basic workplace issues are decided by majority vote after a free and open debate. That is when different views on what distribution of output should occur are articulated and democratically decided.

No redistribution is required, necessitated, or provoked. Workplace members are free to reopen, debate and decide anew on initial wealth distributions at any time. The same procedure would apply to workplace decisions governing what to produce, which technology to deploy, and where to locate production. All workers collectively and democratically decide what wage the collective of workers pays to each of them individually. They likewise decide how to dispose of or allocate any surplus, which is above the total individual wage bill and replacement of used-up inputs, that the enterprise might generate.

A parable can illustrate the basic point. Imagine parents taking their twins—Mary and John—to a park where there is an ice-cream vendor. The parents buy two ice creams and give both to Mary. John's wails provoke a search for an appropriate redistribution of ice creams. The parents take away one of the ice creams from Mary and hand it to John. Anger, resentment, bitterness, envy and rage distress the rest of the day and divide family members. If affection and emotional support are similarly distributed and redistributed, deep and divisive scars result. The lesson: we don't need a "better" or "right" redistribution; we need to distribute more equally and democratically in the first place.



Richard D. Wolff is professor of economics emeritus at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, and a visiting professor in the Graduate Program in International Affairs of the New School University, in New York. Wolff's weekly show, "Economic Update," is syndicated by more than 100 radio stations and goes to 55 million TV receivers via Free Speech TV. His three recent books with Democracy at Work are The Sickness Is the System: When Capitalism Fails to Save Us From Pandemics or Itself, Understanding Marxism, and Understanding Socialism.

This article was produced by Economy for All, a project of the Independent Media Institute.
Native American communities living on the route of the Line 3 pipeline project rally to stop it

USEPA


Technicians in personal protective equipment prepare pipe before cutting and removing the section from the Enbridge pipeline oil spill site near Marshall, Michigan.
Sonali Kolhatkar and
Independent Media Institute May 28, 2021

A decades-old pipeline called Line 3, run by the Canadian company Enbridge, is in the midst of a controversial upgrade sparking fierce resistance from Indigenous communities living along the route. Line 3 is being replaced in order to enable the transport of nearly 800,000 barrels of dirty tar sands crude oil per day from Calgary, Canada, to Wisconsin. The majority of the pipeline cuts across northern Minnesota through the heart of lands where the Anishinaabe people have treaty rights to hunt, fish and harvest wild rice and maple syrup.


Line 3 joins a growing list of controversial oil pipeline projects targeted by the burgeoning Indigenous-led climate justice movement. In his last year in office, President Barack Obama responded to the powerful and internationally hailed convergence at Standing Rock in South Dakota by halting work on the Dakota Access Pipeline project. Almost a year earlier, he had canceled the Keystone XL pipeline—which was another major target of climate protesters. Entering office in January 2017, President Donald Trump promptly revived both projects and eventually greenlit the Line 3 pipeline. Once Joe Biden entered the White House in early 2021, he canceled the doomed Keystone Pipeline but has yet to take action on reversing Trump's approval of DAPL or canceling the Line 3 project.


Indigenous leaders, embodying the spirit of Standing Rock five years ago, have been resisting the Line 3 replacement project and are now calling on all Americans, including those who are not Indigenous, to join them for what is being called a "Treaty People Gathering" from June 5 through 8 to demand an end to the project. One of them is Nancy Beaulieu, co-founder of the Resilient Indigenous Sisters Engaging (RISE) Coalition, and the northern Minnesota organizer for 350.org. Beaulieu explained to me in an interview that, "as Indigenous people, we have the inherent responsibility to protect the waters and all that is sacred. And as settlers—people who signed those treaties with our ancestors—they have an obligation to uphold those treaties." In other words, "everyone has a responsibility to the treaties" signed with tribal nations.

Non-Indigenous Americans have largely forgotten not only that we have treaty obligations, but also that we live in a nation with a bloody history of settler colonialism. Former Republican Senator Rick Santorum demonstrated that ignorance in his tone-deaf comments on CNN—which later got him fired—when he said, "We birthed a nation from nothing. Yes, there were Native Americans, but there isn't much Native American culture in American culture."

Leaders like Beaulieu are determined to fight such erasure by reviving the conversations around treaty obligations and how the fight against pipelines and climate change is central to Indigenous stewardship of the natural world. She sees the June gathering as building on the Standing Rock mobilization and the Keystone pipeline activism, saying it is "the same exact thing but with different tribes."

According to Beaulieu, President Biden could cancel the Line 3 project with "the stroke of a pen," and she is perplexed about why he doesn't just do so. When the president convened a virtual climate summit in April with dozens of world leaders, he pledged to slash the U.S.'s greenhouse gas emissions by 50 percent in less than a decade. That is an enormously ambitious goal—one that would only be helped by a cancelation of the Line 3 pipeline project.

"Not only should Biden stop Line 3 but he should also step in and stop these corporate giants responsible for the mess they're leaving us in in this beautiful country of ours," said Beaulieu. Instead, she worries that "corporations are just buying their way through lobbying our politicians."

When politicians do stand in their way, companies like Enbridge respond with shocking impunity. Take the case of Michigan where Gov. Gretchen Whitmer last year demanded the closure of another decades-old pipeline run by Enbridge called Line 5. That pipeline, first built in 1953, carries more than half a million barrels of crude oil per day under the Great Lakes and has had dozens of leaks over the years, spilling more than a million barrels across its length. Michigan's Great Lakes hold more than a fifth of the entire world's fresh surface water and remain in jeopardy as the aging Line 5 pipeline continues to operate. Rather than comply with Gov. Whitmer's order, Enbridge, backed by the Canadian government, simply refused to shut it down.

Enbridge is taking a similarly defiant position in northern Minnesota with its continuation of the Line 3 replacement project in the face of mass opposition. Shockingly, the company is even going as far as anticipating police responses to protesters by paying into an escrow account to reimburse local Minnesota law enforcement departments for costs related to policing the resistance. In other words, a Canadian fossil fuel corporation is essentially hiring public servants to protect their private financial interests against the public.




Pipelines leak. That fact is as inevitable as greenhouse gas emissions fueling climate change. The United States has the largest number of pipelines, both existing and planned, than any other nation on the planet. According to Greenpeace, Enbridge's pipelines have leaked hundreds of times, spilled millions of gallons of hazardous material, and contaminated water at least 30 times. The original Line 3 project suffered the largest inland oil spill in the nation's history in Minnesota in 1991, and Enbridge's Michigan Line 5 pipeline dumped hundreds of thousands of barrels of tar sands into the Kalamazoo River in 2010. So, when Indigenous leaders like Beaulieu say their treaty rights to pristine land and water are threatened by Line 3, the facts are on their side.

While the fate of our planet and human life remains precarious in the face of ongoing emissions and a changing climate, fossil fuel companies have been laughing all the way to the bank. According to one analysis, since 1990, when the impact of emissions on the climate was well established, the top four largest oil and gas companies on the planet accumulated nearly $2 trillion in profits. "It's about power," said Beaulieu. "It's about the 1 percent and who's going to be in charge of our government."

However, the climate justice movement is slowly winning. A Dutch court recently ordered Royal Dutch Shell—one of those top four profitable companies—to slash its emissions by 45 percent by the year 2030 in a remarkable and historic case that could inspire similar legal challenges to other oil and gas companies. Another one of the big four—ExxonMobil, which is the U.S.'s most profitable oil corporation—is being challenged internally by an investor shareholder who ousted two board members over the company's climate policies. It was the first time such a thing happened, prompting one analyst to exclaim, "Investors have sent a shot across the bow of Exxon, but its impact will ricochet across the boards of every major fossil fuel company."

Joining such efforts are on-the-ground movements like the one opposing the Line 3 pipeline in Minnesota. As she prepares for the mass gathering in June, Beaulieu told me, "we are going to peacefully resist this pipeline, and we're calling on all our allies across Turtle Island to come here to northern Minnesota," using the Native American term for North America. "Treaties don't only protect us as Native people. They protect those people that signed the treaties as well," she added.

Sonali Kolhatkar is the founder, host and executive producer of "Rising Up With Sonali," a television and radio show that airs on Free Speech TV and Pacifica stations. She is a writing fellow for the Economy for All project at the Independent Media Institute.

This article was produced by Economy for All, a project of the Independent Media Institute.